


Steve Rogers Knows What He's Doing (and he's doing it anyway)

by AngeNoir



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: F/M, Flirting, Fluff, M/M, Multi, Orgy, Polyamory, Steve is a tease, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-31
Updated: 2014-07-31
Packaged: 2018-02-11 04:07:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,780
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2052954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AngeNoir/pseuds/AngeNoir
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve Rogers is comfortable in his body, and comfortable sharing his body. His teammates? Not so comfortable.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Steve Rogers Knows What He's Doing (and he's doing it anyway)

**Author's Note:**

> I have had a really, really shitty week and this was originally posted at my tumblr since someone prompted it to me but no one liked it, so I'm sticking it over here to try and feel good about myself again.
> 
> If only writing fanfiction paid and I didn't have to go back to college ever again after this fiasco...
> 
> The prompt was:
> 
>  
> 
> _successfully turning the other on, with a pairing of your choosing (or, since that's not helpful: Steve/Bucky, Steve/Tony, Steve/Sam, Steve/Natasha. Basically, Steve/anyone)._
> 
>  
> 
> And I interpreted it as Steve/everyone.

-4

"It’s too cold to draw."

Bucky rolled his eyes at Steve’s whines, because if he didn’t he’d end up breaking down and cuddling the smaller male on their rickety bed, and then  _neither_  of them would get any work done. Bucky wanted to eat today, and Steve was a disaster with the stove. He ate bread and butter, or fruit, when there was no one around to cook. “Why don’t you sit next to the oven, then, and draw there? You said you needed to get those drafts in by the end of the week.”

Steve heaved a dramatic sigh and Bucky could hear him patter over to the table. Moments of silence stretched out, no sound of graphite dragging against heavy paper, and Bucky turned around to figure out what Steve was doing if he wasn’t drawing.

Curled up on one of the rickety chairs, a blanket tucked close to his body, skin starting to glow from the heat of the tiny oven Bucky was using to cook the stew, cross-legged with his bare feet sticking out of the scratchy wool, blond hair ruffled and mussed, Steve absently curled his tongue around the end of the pencil, frowning at the paper before him.

Bucky swallowed.

Dragging the end of the pencil out of his mouth, Steve hesitated and then put it back between his lips, those pink, full lips, luscious and perfect, and then seemed to notice Bucky’s staring. “Yeah, Buck?” he asked.

Bucky growled under his breath and lowered the flame before sweeping Steve up in his arms and carrying Steve to their bed. “I can think of other ways to warm you up and get your creative…  _juices_  flowing again,” he teased.

And yeah, it was a horrible line, and Steve laughed long and hard about it, but they certainly did get much warmer.

(Steve grinned smugly to himself, satisfied and satiated, as Bucky moved loosely about the apartment afterwards and warmth was sunk down into Steve’s bones.)

-3

Tony turned the corner into the garage attached to the tower and nearly choked on his tongue when he saw Steve straddling a motorcycle, leather jacket hanging off his frame, a cap pulled low over his strikingly short hair and dark sunglasses covering his face. Hormones in overdrive, Tony did his best not to think about the smell of leather or the feel of it against his naked back as he handed over the boxes he was carrying.

Immediately, Steve opened up the top box and reverently pulled out his shield. “Wow. Shiny and everything.” His fingers ran over the metal and Tony briefly envisioned those fingers running over other things.

"Yeah," Tony coughed, clearing his throat and swallowing hard. "Uh - yeah, least I could do. Fixed up the paint job. You tell your flying birdbrain that the new model should respond like the old one, with a few minor additions. It’ll be heavier, for one. For another it’s got an unlimited fuel supply, so he won’t have to worry about running out of juice mid-flight."

"We wouldn’t want Sam running out of juice," Steve murmured.

Tony stared a bit too long at those lips and that smirk before shaking his head slowly. “Um. Yeah. Well. If you need any help, you know who you can call. Weapons,  _tech support_ , you name it.”

At that, Steve had the grace to wince a bit. “We were a bit busy, but we’ll remember next time.”

Slightly mollified, Tony nodded and rocked back on his heels as Steve strapped the second and third boxes to the back of the motorcycle and lovingly placed the shield back into the box before attaching that separately. Then Steve held out his hand and Tony willingly reached out and took it, shaking it.

Did Steve’s fingers linger… ?

With that cocky smile, Steve winked at Tony and straddled the motorcycle again, making Tony think dirty things about those spread legs, especially with the way those jeans gripped that ass. “We’ll see you soon enough.”

"Yeah," Tony said absently. "You guys are always welcome, you know."

"I know," Steve purred, and drove off.

Tony stared after him a moment before huffing out a deep sigh. “Well, damn. I need a shower.”

-2

"Sam? What the hell are you doing?"

They were in some crappy motel in the rural north, heading towards the latest sighting of the Winter Soldier (in Canada, apparently) and Sam’s pen had rolled under the sagging beds. There were other pens, and he could easily have gone and gotten another one, but he was trying to get  _this_  one.

"Just getting a pen," he grunted from where he was splayed on the floor, fingers just brushing against the slim writing utensil. "Don’t mind me."

He could feel the vibrations as Steve walked over - they were sharing a room, two twins, and Sam’s bed was shoved up against the wall with a dresser blocking the shortest path to the pen, so Sam was on the floor between their beds - and then knuckles pressed into his back as Steve gripped the bed’s frame and  _lifted._  

"Hot damn," Sam breathed in awe, as  _all four legs_  of the bed lifted off the ground.

"This is balanced pretty awkwardly and could fall any minute, so if you wanna…?" Steve drawled.

Sam pushed forward and snatched up the pen before pulling away and coming up to his knees, and Steve set the bed down again. “Dude,” he said, voice slow and amazed.

Steve smirked and licked his lips. “Finished up my run. We ready to head on out?”

Sam swallowed and nodded jerkily. “Yeah, man, all ready. Packed and ready.”

"Cool. I’mma hit the showers."

And Cap honest-to-god  _winked_.

Sam stared at the closed door and breathed out. “Shit.”

-1

Natasha lounged on the bed, lazy and content, waiting for Steve to come out of the bathroom. James was doing better, though Sam was determined to watch the older man and make sure there were no wrong moves. Personally, Natasha was glad the Winter Soldier was found, and tamed (to an extent). His last mission, after all, had been all three of them, and now that he was subdued (for a definition of subdued, but then wasn’t that true for them all?) she didn’t have to worry about a bullet to the back of her head.

Well. No more worrying than normal, at least.

The door opened and Steve came out in nothing but a pair of sweats - and obviously nothing  _under_  the sweats, either. When he saw her, he stopped, and she raised an eyebrow appreciatively, eyes trailing over his chest and the wet, clinging fabric of his sweats.

"I didn’t know you had the key to this room," Steve said.

Natasha smiled. “The nice thing about moving into Stark’s tower,” she said, pleased, “is that if you make nice with the robot butler, you have a lot more doors open for you. Literally.”

"Agent Romanoff had the appropriate codes and information on Col. Fury’s mission," JARVIS said, and if a robot could sound disapproving…

Natasha pouted. “Ruin all my fun,” she grumbled, sitting up and watching as Steve bent down to pull a white tank out of his bags - still packed, as if expecting Stark would kick him, or more likely James, out of the tower. Steve’s ass was a thing of beauty, it really, really was.

Steve rose slowly, muscles playing in his back, water dripping down the unmarred skin and lovingly outlining the dips and curves of his body. He looked over his shoulder at her and smirked.

"Tease," she said, but she felt the familiar low ache and throb, the hint of wetness, and she did her best to keep it light and teasing.

"You love it," he responded fondly, reaching out for the file she had beside her.

She did. Handing over the folder and watching as he bent his head over the papers, his abs and chest right  _there,_  she had to admit she did.

+1

Steve stepped out of Tony’s elevator to hear Sam saying “ - swear he does it on purpose.”

"He does." That was Bucky’s low rumble, rough and gritty like Steve’s bike. "He did, at least. Of what I can remember. Sometimes in public too, and that wasn’t a time to get stiff over your best guy in public, let me tell you."

"Well, at least I don’t feel left out," and that was Tony, voice dry, though there was an odd hitch to his voice. "I think - "

Then Bucky was saying over Tony’s words, “I can hear you breathing there, Steve, you little tease.”

Steve smirked, because yeah, okay, he did it on purpose and he did it often, but he couldn’t help taking advantage of the fact, especially when he worked with such amazingly hot people. Walking down the hallway to the shared living room, he stepped in and stopped in shock.

Sam drew his attention first, because Natasha was on Sam’s lap in nothing but bra and panties, hips rocking slowly against Sam, and Bucky was next to Sam on the couch, eyes full of that leashed sexual drive that Steve remembered so well. He wasn’t looking at the show, though - Tony was, Tony, who was sitting opposite the three of them in a chair, wearing sweats and a tank and sporting a visible erection (damn, that looked big, Steve could almost imagine it in his mouth…). No, Bucky was looking straight at Steve, that familiar smirk and easy smile curling the corners of his mouth. He stood up, and he was shirtless, only recently becoming less body-conscious of the metal arm and its joining to his flesh. Steve stared at his muscles, remembering Bucky’s body from years and years ago.

"So, whaddaya say?" Bucky purred, putting out his organic hand to Steve. "Play tease with all of us… do more with all of us?"

And honestly, that was one of the absolute best options that could possibly have come from his teasing, especially since Steve was worried that his fellow team and housemates had assumed he was just flirting and wasn’t  _really_  interested. He was instantly, incredibly hard, and he licked his lips eagerly. “More, Buck,” he said happily. “Everything.”

"Be careful what you wish for," Tony said roughly, and he stood up. "My bed’s the biggest, I know."

Steve willingly followed the four of them up to Tony’s room, and he had to say, having four lovers focused on his pleasure, holding him down and riding him and being ridden in turn, well. Steve was sure his teasing was about to be turned back on him, and he found he really didn’t care.


End file.
